Let it happen...

While you’d love to personally witness the demonizations of so many mortals, the accursed sun prevents your movement from this warehouse. It matters little; you can feel the effects like a torrential downpour as lust consumes the city.

Barbara slinks into the basement, pulling another delectable demoness by her tail. You recognize her as Michelle, the anchorwoman fro Barbara’s former place of employment.

“I see your delivery was made,” you hiss and laugh.

“Was it ever,” Michelle coos, gripping her dark lover’s breast and ravishing her mouth with a wicked tongue.

The collective of your succubi and incubi ride the waves of desire for countless hours, feeling almost every mortal in the city cross over. You confiscate one of your human prisoners as a celebratory soul toast for your victory.

“Mistress!” Raven sighs, pointing to a nearby television with a cum-soaked talon.
You look up from the thick cock of the incubus before you to see the anchor set where Michelle once sat. The desk and dressing are quite disheveled, thanks no doubt to the flushed, half-dressed woman frantically trying to align the camera.

She doesn’t quite manage it (presumably because she can’t keep her hands away from her exposed pussy for more than ten seconds), leaving the frame tilted 45 degrees left.

The orgy slows for a few minutes to watch the woman brace herself against the desk, trying to steady her ragged breathing. She claws at her dress, tearing enough fabric away to reach her engorged left nipple.

“Everyone...listen, please,” she stammers out as she teases the bud, “my name is...Nora...Nora Dunn. I work...here at Channel Six...sixty-nine, ooh yeah, want someone eating my pussy!” She shakes the image away, even as she slumps to her knees on the floor. You grin broadly; she is turning!

”The balm...is a trap,” Nora moans desperately. “Don’t use it...use me...fuck me, somebody fuck me!” She rapidly loses restraint, falling backwards onto the desk, brazenly fingering her sore slit in full view of the camera.

“Wonderful!” Barbara hisses.

“Nora always was the office slut,” Michelle chuckles.

“Fuck me...please someone, come down here and fuck me...no, don’t, please listen! Anyone who’s touched the balm...is infected...don’t trust...them!” She finally loses her will, fisting herself and howling in desperation as she rolls off the desk on the background side. “Fuck, fuck, I’m...gonna...ccuuuummmmm!” The world enjoys the sound of her screeching in orgasm, followed by her shadow expanding to include wings, tail and horns.

Your minions cheer as Nora climbs back onto the desk, sinuously displaying her unholy body as her tattered clothing is shredded away and discarded. She laughs as the camera is wrenched from its rolling dolly by her supernatural strength. “In other news,” the succubus moans seductively, “my pussy!” The viewers at home are treated to a shot of her tunnel as the lens is **** between her legs.

By the time night falls and you are able to leave the complex (taking Reyes and company with you for insurance), the city is teeming with demons and demonesses. You watch with glee as they hunt down and infect the few remaining mortals.

“Today, the mortal world,” you rasp with glee. “Then, Heaven awaits!”

Your minions revel in the apparent victory of Satan’s army.